


Oh, Terr Bear.

by Reciprocate



Category: LISA (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 07:32:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11732430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reciprocate/pseuds/Reciprocate
Summary: What's the point? Is there even a reason? Honestly, I don't think there is.The great hinster embarks on a journey to find his purpose in life, he travels  through the badlands of eastern and western Olathe searching for the reason to go on.





	1. Welcome to My Hell.

Nothing quite beats the faded sage green wilted foliage scenery of the dying wasteland, stained and marred with death and decay. But, the tan and pink cohesion of the clear day sky made things less grim, as well as the countless amount of rolling hills reaching towards the heavens in the distance, and the waist-high ledges to jump over. Someone could pull a hamstring. However, this land was different from that of the other, it smelled of putrid iron and copper. It was as barren as my— _oh-no_ , can't be having those thoughts.

  
Terry shook his head, warding off the foreboding, imprisoning feelings. He squatted on the edge of a rather wide crevice, staring at the other end just a few feet a way.

He narrowed his sore eyes, quirking one side of his dry lip in displeasure. It doesn't look that hard. His eyes trailed to his left, there was some kind of strange red marking of a bird with a star in the middle; It was painted on a green rock wall above the gap.

...I could never draw anything that good.

He studied the fissure once more with narrowed eyes, but then shrugged and took a few steps back. He went for some lunges and stretches, like his momma always told him. " 'Always workout and stretch, or else life will be a bitch.' "

A loving hint, from a 'loving' mother.

His faded black tight yoga pants hugged his crotch, causing him to chafe, the unbearable heat striking through his yellow flamboyant cheetah print jersey didn't make things anymore tolerable either.

But at least he looked fabulous!

He stretched his sweaty suntanned arms, swaying them side to side and halfway swiveling his chest, then he did some squats, but not a lot, those hurt! Sweat beat down his face and his rapid breaths became labored. He was feeling the burn, in fact, he felt on fire!

"Oh _fuck_ this!" Terry huffed, tugging on the bottom end of his sweaty jersey to fan himself.

Terry stopped right as his knees bent, he jumped up, recuperating from his tense exercise, he dropped down into a crouch, readying himself into a sprint position. A sharp racking thought clouded his vision, making things a bit hazy.

If he didn't make it at least it'd a-

He shook his head, warding of the self consuming thoughts, taking in a sharp inhale, holding it for a moment, then exhaled.

His right leg extended, pressing into the dirt, making a indention and kicking up dust with the force of his lunge. He made a mad dash onward, doing a light hop before he reached the gap, bending his knees in when his feet touch the ground, he felt a burning tension build up in his legs. He leapt into the sky! If only his mother could see him now...she'd be proud.

Terry's weary eyes lax and he smiled, dimpling his pink cheeks as safety drew near. His black wavy hair splayed out and the string of tips danced, his dangly arms and legs flailed through the air.

...Everything slowed down.

He started to fall, the ledge just out of arms length.

Terry crashed chest first into the jutting rocks of the jagged rock wall, causing a pang to shoot through out his body.

His face and arms collapsed forward into the ground above.

His hands clawed at the blistering loose hot dirt with his shaking, tense, and sweaty hands, making ruts as he dug his fingers through the soil, tearing his flesh.

His shoes thrashed into the cracks of the projected rocks, knocking bits into the abyss below, the loud clatter made Terry shudder. He clenched his teeth from the throbbing pain, a tangy hot liquid seeped into his throat.

His face pinken while small trickles of sweat blotched his forehead. His arms quaked as he tried to lift himself up.

He shut his eyes, taking in inhales, letting in the dry air.

If he let go, he wouldn't have to suffer anymore.

Terry's grip around the dirt loosened, his fingers slacked.

If he let go, he wouldn't have to bare this anymore.

Terry's eyes started to welled with tears, he gasped for air, letting it sting his aching lungs, he tried once more to save himself.

If he let go, he wouldn't have to wake up anymore.

It'd all be done with.

It'd all be over.

It'd all end.

Terry grunted, huffing and heaving. The burning tears fought their way out, running against his red cheeks.

Would he make a sound?

Would it hurt?

...Would anyone care...?

Terry's lower lip quivered, his legs gave out, leaving only one line of hope.

But what's the point?

If only his mother could see him now, she'd be disappointed.

He started to slip into the void.

Maybe it wouldn't be all bad?

Terry open his eyes to gaze into the bleeding sky, he tried once more, he had to, even if he's dying on the inside.

Terry set the side of his face against the ground, he pulled himself upwards, dragging himself against the dirt, then into a crawl. First his chest, then his groin, and last but not least his dangly legs.

His vision blurred, body felt heavy, and as he panted trickles of blood was spat out; His yet to be corpse idled where it lie. The blazing rays of the sun had become to much. He flicked his tongue against his dry cracking lips, his heart beat against his bruised chest, wanting to break out of its cage. Everything started to spin.

But it wasn't over, not yet, not now, nor then.

Terry dragged himself towards the hollow opening held up by a lopsided rotten wooden beam, the humid cave's darkness was comforting as it blanketed him from the ire of the unforgiving sun.

Each breath pricked his chest, he blinked to remove the moister in his blood shot eyes, then let his body give out.

Everything went black.

**. . .**

A breathy gasp for air filled his strained lungs, Terry's body snapped back to life, He stared wide eyed at the cold hard ground with a blank expression. I'm back in this hellhole. He rolled himself over to lie on his back, facing up towards the dim lit ceiling. His tired eyes trailed towards the thin strings beams of light, being cast from the outside. He curled up into a ball and cried, however his body couldn't spare the moister for such a purgative ritual.

And here you are as before, nothing changed: You have no friends, and you never will: You're not strong, you'll _never_ be: All you are is a dis-

Terry took in a sharp inhale, shuddering. He nursed his weary, woe mind, taking in the medication of self-help, he gave himself a little cheer.

"You made it this far, it's not over yet!" He half-heartedly raised his bruised fist in the air, wooing himself from his self-doubt. He spoke below his breath.

"...You should just give up..."

He took in a deep inhale, letting his lax shoulders rise, then exhaled, escaping the tension, he stood up, then dragged his feet, heading deeper into the cavern drop off.

He came to a cliffside with the usual rope; This one was stained with dry blood. He gulped, leaning over to see how far this chamber went, it didn't seem too far, the light from the outside bled into the lower bowels, it seemed to be just two levels below.

He squatted, extending a shaking, tense hand towards the rope, but jolted back, he clenched his teeth and decided to grip it, then proceeded to climb down. He dug his feet into the wall as he decline. The light foot press against the rock reverberated.

He made slow progress, each inch of descend came with a hint of hesitation. He made it to the second level with light footfall, making haste to the next, he gradually made it to the ground.

If only his mother could see him now, she'd probably stop drinking.

He made progress with wayward steps, his feet would cross in front of one another, causing him to stagger.

Terry tensed up, stumbling back when he notice the contours of the yellow tinge of light, wrapping itself on the side of a shadowy portly figure leaning against the left side of the wall by the exit. "H-hello?" Terry gave a benign wave, being wary as he paced near.

They didn't move, presumably dead, Terry checked the postmortem rigor mortis corpse. The more he stepped near, the easier it became to see. The outside illuminating light reached across the body, wrapping itself around the suntanned portly shirtless male carcass. Only their head leaned into darkness as if it was being pulled by the shadows.

He sighed, letting the relief ease his prickled nerves. But then the body moved.

Their wide, bald, barrel head came crashing down towards their limp breast.

The man's black pupils exotropia towards the ceiling, and their red puffy lips unsettling stretch across their face, dimpling their dried, wrinkled cheeks.

Terry stood paralyzed. "S-stay back!" His voice cracked as his body tensed, scrunching his fist by his beating chest. He slouched, waiting for them to make a move. But, they didn't. Terry crept onward, stepping in front of them. If he'd make a move, he can fight him off! Show the world who's the bravest man arou—Oh god they moved again!

He ran back into the shadows, hiding behind a rock, watching the grotesque body stay idle like an action figure. Their left hand released three blue pills from their clutch.

Squinting his eyes, Terry noticed those were the same as what many others had, and they always had that same look across their face, their eyes always held wide open and dry, their mouth wide open and crept across their face which made them look crazed, and they always seemed to be in a daze.

  
Maybe if I take one, I'd be happy for once, it wouldn't hurt?...Would it? Terry dipped his head by his chest, letting his eyebrows sag. I'm not capable of being happy because I can't, I'd have to take happy pills just to feel it for once, because all I a-

Terry clutched the strings of his hair, giving it a slight tug. The pain set the dreading thoughts at bay. I'm strong and capable, I made it this far without those pills, I can go on longer, because unannounced to this world, I'm number one!

He threw his fist up towards the ceiling, jumping an inch in the air with closed eyes and a blissful smile.

This new world will see my true power, and fans will flock to see my glory! Terry extended his pointer finger up, grinning. Because I'm the most dashing man around, I'm capable of making world peace, but haven't gotten around to that. He cupped his hand onto his smooth chin. I'm able to make people shed tears with my voice alone. And I'm the most important person alive! I am!

Hint Lord: Terry Rupert Hints!

He set his palm on his chest, his puffy red wrist band slid down his messy hairy arm. He spoke under his breath. "I'm the hero of this story, and." He opened his eyes. "Wont lose this time!"

Terry eyes shot open, stumbling onto his rump when the inebriated man groaned. Terry curled up into a ball, cradling himself and cried out.

"Please don't hurt me!"

The body didn't move or even acknowledge Terry's greatness. How rude. Terry stood up, dusting the grim off, then scrunched his arms by his chest and tipped toed by the grotesque man, making sure not to catch any unwanted attention. He made it outside.

He used his harry palm to shield his narrowed eyes from the assaulting rays of the sun. he blinked to readjust his vision, everything was still blurry and misshaped.

Terry closed his eyes once more, then open them, his pupils went round and mouth half agape. The green land smelled of putrid, ammonia, and cooking flesh. Terry set his hands over his quivering mouth and twitching nose. The stench stifled his breath, making him gag.

He collapsed to his knees, still transfixed on the disfigured bodies of boys and men around the makeshift worn dry wood houses; Their skin peeled and set ablaze, bodies pierced with pikes that jutted from the ground, and organs spread about the dry foliage making a gruesome painting.

Terry's bile surged from his wrenching gut, escaping through his hands, and crashing into the blades of green and yellow grass. Water escaped his glistening eyes.

It's always the same no matter where you go, death is your friend, wedlock until time lets you part.

His faded eyes slowly trailed towards the jagged cliffside. At least the place had a nice view. He rested on his fours, unable to recuperate from the shock, he stayed there trembling.

What if the people who did this are near?

The sudden flutter of grass from the howling wind, snapped Terry out of his mulling thoughts, he breathy gasp with wide eyes.

It sounded as kids and men were groaning beneath the breath of gust. The sudden realization caused him to freeze, the synapses made his lifeless fingers twitch.

The bodies still moved, reaching out towards the bleeding sky for a glimmer of hope.

Terry's head slued away, he then bolted back to the heaven of darkness, hiding in the shelter of the cave by the door's frame. He slid his tense back down against the wall.

Once more his attention was seized by the inebriated man, now laying on his side, lost in thought. The man's voice cracked.

"You see? It's what we are to our." He chuckled. "Core, nothing but monsters." The unsettling man's smile crooked across his face. "It's what we do, it's what we are."

Terry looked down at the ground with a half shut eyes, and trembling lip, his hands balled into a fist.

"T-that's not true!"

The man let out a bellowing laugh, his dangly arms resting on his sagging belly. He stopped. "Do you?" He lifted himself up halfway, keeping himself upright with his arms. "Hear that?" He gazed at the blinding entrance.

The dying outcries rung throughout the cave's stalagmite, howling as it went deeper.

The man leaned his head back, his eyelids fluttered, he lost his baring, and collapsed back onto the ground, making a thud. "Then what is that out there? That's what in us all."

Terry's voice was hesitant, "I-I've seen good in the world, this isn't what we are."

"Have you not looked around?" The man raised a limp hand. "This is it! The end of the torment." The man went on.

"We're free."

Terry shook his head, raising a clenched fist by his chest.

"Y-you can't give up. This isn't the end. We'll come back." Terry shut his eyes and smiled. "We can save ourselves."

But that's not true. It never was, nothing but lies.

His joyful smile faltered, drooping as his facade wore off.

The harrowing screams sent a shiver down Terry's spine. Making him wince and shudder. The man muttered crass comments as he went back into a daze.

What's the point? Why even bother? What's there to wake up to? This? Is this all it is now! Is this all that's left! Is this all you can do? **Nothing** , as usual, _useless_ as usual, Nothing but **trash**. As _usual_.

Terry leaned his back against the rugged wall, letting it prick his skin, it snuffed the vapid thoughts for now. His head wilt next to his chest, he took in slow heavy breaths.

Maybe there really isn't a point to it all, you live, you die, and you're forgotten. To be alone and unable to help yourself, not like you can even help anyone, no one needs you around.

He set his lax palm over his head, pressed his quivering lips together, then parted. He wanted to mend his wounds, give himself a cheer, yet...he couldn't find the words, because they didn't come from the heart. His eyes narrowed, pupils dragged towards the ceiling, gazing at the stalagmite.

Would that be painless if-

Terry let out a heavy sigh, letting himself lax. He muttered, "Of cour-" The words were caught in his mouth and cold sweat trickled down his nose. His breathing came to a halt as his shaking eyes were transfixed.

Two sets of fiery glowing eyes watched from the blanket of darkness, a phosphorus red loomed over the yellow. Both settled on Terry then to the intoxicated man.

They approached, a tawny brownish orange hand, with streams of dry blood came out from the veil, the shadowy figures other hand clutched a worn shovel.

Grey blue bandanas wrapped around the wrist connected to a long black sleeve. Next were cloth spaulders with clear glass. The man's barrel like chest came into view, revealing their button up coat with white trims that were on the contours of the pockets and collar.

Then...a blue furred muzzle poked out of the shroud of darkness. Its red eyes blinked, and so did the yellow ones behind him.

Trickles of sweat beat down Terry's face. Maybe these abominations were the ones who did this? He stared wide eyed with his mouth half open, ensnared by terror his pupils kept on the monsters.

One with that of a head of a wolf, the other a tiger with a spear.

They stepped by the inebriated man, who was still encapsulated in his own world, neither of the beast paid no heed to such trash, keeping their stare on the trail ahead. The man with the wolf head stepped by Terry, but didn't notice him, he progressed into the land of the dead. However...

The man with the tiger mask? Stopped, starring down at him with those...eyes? Are they real? And they blinked again!

Terry's brows twitched, a gut wrenching feeling twisted his insides, he wanted to run, but was frozen in place, interlocked with their...death stare? Or was it just the way the masked loo- Terry jolted back when the tiger man closed his eyes and playfully waved at him.

Terry flailed his arms and kicked, collapsing his back onto the cold hard ground and making a thud as he made contact.

The brevity of the awkward moment passed, Terry watched as the peculiar man trotted out the exit. Flabbergasted by what had passed, he peeked his head from the exit, protecting his eyes from the blinding light with his cupped hand, then pinched his nose and breathed through his mouth. He observed as the two...men? Or monsters...or whatever they are finish off the half living.

The hulking man with the wolf mask crushed their heads with his bear hands, the other used his spear, jabbing it between their eyes, killing them almost instantaneously.

When the duo was done, the...wolf? Werewolf? Man..with wolf head? Terry shook his head, watching the wolf man dig, making rectangular pits in the ground, he lifted the corpses with his hulking hand, then shoved them in, filling it the pit to the top, then buried them beneath the loose blood soaked soil.

Both the peculiar monsters went into the wooden houses, pulling out the pikes with the ki- Terry faced away, setting his palsy hand over his aching forehead.

The sounds of dirt being scooped up and patted made Terry keep his morbid curiosity gaze away, he'd listened to the harrowing sound of the topsoil being rapped against the shovel. He faced his head to the exit, taking the chance to peek, he glanced outside, scoping the terrain, he noticed the two were done; The wolf man left his boot on the shovel which it's head pierced the ground. The...monster...panted? Sweat! How?

Terry watched...the beast stand there, basking in the blazing sun in such a suit, yet unfazed by the heat. This thing was no man, nor beast, but then what is it? Terry's attention was seized by the smaller beast, the tiger watched the wolf from afar, it seemed both were watching the wolf, but.

The tiger man seemed lax, slowly blinking as he leaned against a wooden house a good feet away. The thing smiled, unable to take its stare from the sweaty wolf.

Terry scratched his rugged prickly chin, rubbing his pointer finger against the peach fuzz. He narrowed his bushy brows, studying the tigers every move.

Both men took a break, resting against a wooden house, using it as shelter from the scorching raging rays of the sun. They blankly stared off into the empty ravine below, neither speaking a word, both stood in awkward silence. The wolf never paid attention to the tiger, yet, a few minutes later the tiger made sure to surrender all of his to the wolf man...thing. Terry shrugged, not bothering to continue the thought, he went back into the cave, leaned against the wall, and waited.

But, something peaked his curiosity. Surely they'd have to take the mask off to cool off. He closed his eyes and nodded, clapping his fist into his palm, he peeked out to see if-

Terry stared wide eyed and mouth agape. The two...rather...hot men were kissing. Embracing each other? with the mask? Even...after killing and burying people...they find the time to make out! He couldn't take his eyes off of them.

The way the wolf man held and cradled the tiger in is big strong arms...was something Terry yearned for. The way they closed their eyes, shutting it from the world and making love...was something he wished he could have. The way...they kept each other from being alone...

Terry lowered his head, he stood halfway in the door frame, his poster wilting. Tears started to build up, he set his palm over his quivering mouth, his chest started to burn.

What they had was what he wished he deserved, but. I'm trash, nothing but filth, a waste, something to be thrown away, I could never have it, and never be happy, because I'm never meant to be. Because people like me are _fuck_ -

Terry closed his tear ridden eyes and shook his throbbing head, his trembling brows and clenched teeth made him tense up. He once more fought off the self loathing thoughts.

Terry raised his head to stare at the two men blessed with one another, their happiness made him feel a prick of bliss, yet he still frowned as he watched.

Both of them leaning against the house side-by-side, holding each others hands, and keeping each other company. And...

Smiling.

Something he'd never have, but always wanted, however because of who he is... it's intangible. Terry slithered back inside, but something kept pulling him back to the two, he'd peek his head out, watch them as they...just kept silent? But somehow...they were happy just by being with each other.

Is that what love is?

Terry pulled out a little tarnish notebook with a leather latch from his pocket, in the center of it was a chewed up black pen. He flipped the pages, going to the middle, then begin to jot thing down.

_Dear Diary._

_Today I've found out that love comes in many forms, some of which is to be with that of one another presence; Neither saying a word to one another._

Terry scratched his head with the pen, narrowing his eyes as he reread the passage aloud. "Hmm. 'I've found out that love...' that sounds off." He paused, then set his pen in his mouth, gnawing on it as he mused. He sighed then went back to writing.

_I wonder if someone would ever be by my side? Would they love me, or just tolerate me? Would I even be able to find such a person?_

Terry's eyes glistened.

_Would they love me? I mean I know I'm handsome._

A faint smile dimpled his cheek.

_But I'm a lot of baggage, one that's heavy. No on lks peple lik me._

Terry pressed against the paper, scribbling down every bad thought that came, making the eligible hand writing turn to smudge. Tears smeared the ink.

He failed to notice the two man leave by him.

He failed to see the inebriated man take another swig.

He failed to notice the sharp pain in his chest that made things hard to breath,

He failed to see why he couldn't be **happy**.

He failed to see why he can't make himself **happy**.

He failed to see why he _fucking_ can't be **happy**.

...He failed to make his pen move anymore...

...He failed to see the point...

Because that's all he is.

A failure.

Terry rested his back against the rock jutting wall, setting his hand which held the diary on his heavy chest. His legs buckled, causing him to collapse onto the ground; Landing on his rump. He slumped over, leaving his hands limp in his lap and legs lax, he stowed the pen in his pocket, then the crumpled up excuse of an escape into his other.

The potent venom ran through his veins, becoming prey to the self consuming thoughts that tore him within, each loathing thought gripped his mind, refusing to let go and tearing it from within. He curled up in a ball, leaned against the wall, then shut his heavy weary eyes.

He took slow breaths, each one stinging his aching lungs. When a tear sneaked out of trembling eyes, he'd wipe it away, mumbling words his mother always say.

"Boys don't cry, unless they're fa-"

Terry abruptly stopped, his mouth half open, letting the bitter ire die down within, yet...his mind would stoke it, bringing it all back up.

Selfish stupid sack of shit!

He felt heavy, mind laden with racking raging pain, and body refusing to listen to any course of action. he stared absent minded into the abyss of the chamber, never taking his weary eyes from it. He sat for hours even when his lower half felt numb.

Eventually the self loathing simmered down, setting the torment at bay...for now.

Terry blinked, snapping out of his vapid thoughts, yet there was a pressuring twinge in his chest, he set his heavy hand where his murmuring heart is, clutching the cloth into his sweaty fist, wrinkling the worn fabric. He quirked his pursed lips, letting out low hmph.

He tried to rest on the cold hard ground once more, he'd shuffle, scoot, and roll around. Nothing felt comfortable or quite right. Everything hurt and there was no escape.

He couldn't dream when his aching sore body kept him from his fantasies.

So, Terry did what he always did in situations like this. Slink into the darkness and just beat it as usual, doing so until he let out all that pent-up stress

After a brevity of stress excreting recreation.

Terry felt somewhat alive! He did a quick lively sigh, a short hop, causing his lax shoulders and stylish hair to raise in the air then drop. Today is the day he'll seize! He wont be useless, no not anymore! He clasped his strong hairy fist in his sweaty manly palm. He furrowed those hot sexy brows together making light grooves in his forehead but not too many because he could never be too wrinkly. Because he's Terry the best man around! This world was just waiting to see him shine! He clenched his yello—white thick teeth together, stretching his lips apart and out, causing his lovable baby butt smooth cheeks to dimple.

He stepped out into the ghost town, cleaned out what he could from the wooden houses. He used a rag that he spit on, using his blessing to...didn't wash away the thick crimson blood stains.

He dropped the cloth, clenching his nose, gagging from the putrid cohesion of hot dry air and rotting bodies six feet under.

But that didn't stop him, he wont stop now! He can't be stop! He's the immovable object and the unstoppable force!

Terry gathered the straw beds, getting them all together, but! He came into the house at the end of the rather inconvenient amount of ledges to climb up and then hop down. He stepped in, and was left mouth wide open and twinkling bug eyed.

This house had a mattress! Heaps of fresh smelling foods clumped up in straw bags. His blissful eyes trailed from the bag to a neatly stack of bottle water! He gulped down what little moister was in his dry mouth. This wasn't just some ghost town, this was salvation. Terry set his hand on his chin, staring at the treasures and pondering.

Why wasn't it pillaged?

With what happen here...wouldn't the goods of been stolen? Terry stepped up to the plastic case which held the water, he pulled the sheet apart, then reached in and grabbed a warm bottle. His sweaty hands twisted the cap, then he pressed the bottle against his dry chipped lips, he leaned his head back to chug the life saving liquid, finishing it in a matter of seconds.

But what of those two men? Terry fiddled with the empty bottle, tapping it against his thigh. Cold sweat trickled down his forehead.

What if this was their stuff...and...no there were people in the houses. Terry set on the loose mattress, its worn springs squeaked. He closed his eyes and smiled, the sound was chimes to his ears. He stretched his heavy legs, then lie on what he took for granted.

Terry let out a heavy sigh, but he still didn't feel comfortable. If this place was left like that...could it of been a warning? A war between gangs, and if so, would I be caught between all of that?

He stared up at the ceiling, his fluttering eyes half open, blinking as he let out a long yawn. If who ever...did this came back what'd they do? Probably what they did to the others. He craned his head up, half way raising his chest to stared at the cliffside.

If it came to it, he could just jump...

But what about those two? Why did they bury them? Could they have been associated with them or perhaps hired goons with a heart? They didn't take anything, could there be a society out there? Living, thriving, and surviving through all of this?

  
Terry bent his knees, then crossed one leg over the other, tapping his foot in the air.

But if not...

Is there really a point? What happens when you get old and can't move. do you just starve and die? Or do people end it before then...is that how it is now?

Terry turned his head to the side, gazing at the glistening plastic wrap of the bottles. Even if I had enough supplies to survive, what's the point? A frown wrinkled his cheek.

If another person came, would they be friendly? He shook his head. Course not, people like that don't exist anymore, all that's left is cruelty and chaos. He wiped his dry heavy eyes, yawning and taking in the hot stuffy air.

There has to be something out there that's worth living for, someone to make the days worth waking up to, there has to be.

Terry leaned his head up, he pulled out his diary, jotting some words down, then got some well deserved rest.

  
  


 


	2. I Hate Myself.

Days went by without being bothered from the outside world, there would be echoes of gun fire followed by harrowing screams that clutched onto Terry's troubled ears. It seemed that no one cared of this place, or perhaps didn't know? It seemed like an eternity as the grueling days went by without night nor rain: The vegetation and foliage begin to wilt and wither. It seemed this sanctuary was starting to become his tomb.

The gust of dust turn to scorching anger. Terry struggled with his maintenance of the ghost down, when he bothered to. He'd found a dagger to scrape away the dry blood from the rotting wood of the houses. When he was done cleaning he'd found crayons, cloth, and thin layer of black string, stuff to keep him busy. Terry hesitated to grab the unused pikes that jutted from the ground, he set them into the house on the end. If it got bad, I'd at least go down with a fight.

But even so, the laborious work kept the bad thoughts away...at times, it was also something to do, making things feel...less empty?

Terry set his sweaty arm on his soaked forehead, he leaned against one of the wooden homes, using it as shade from the vengeful wrath of the sun. He took heavy breaths each inhale burned his dry mouth and found their way into his crumpling lungs, the pungent smell never left either, it's stench was the vengeance of the dead.

Terry narrowed his weary bloodshot eyes, blinking as trickles of sweat found their way in. Maybe if people listen to that one guy, it wouldn't be like this? Is this the result of that one thing...global heating?

He closed his dry mouth, flicking his tongue and trying to use his saliva to rid of the irritation, but of course it never did.

Not like any of this really mattered, none of it did, what's the point?

Terry Crossed his arms, setting his gaze on the houses, then the dead grass, and after that the mountain in the distant that rested above everything else, it always seemed like it was giving the finger.

Even if I have what I need, there's something...missing.

Friends.

Family.

...Loved ones...

The inner demons spoke out, but were silenced.

Terry winced when he heard the screeching cry of gun fire and peculiar sounds of magic echo from the wasteland below. At least he was safe from that for now.

More dreading months went by, each day passing without a sign of hope or salvation. It was all tumbling down.

The days started to run into each other, nothing separating them from the other.

Sleep, wake up and cry, eat and have some self-pleasure, mourn, cry, shit and piss, feel like dying, eat some more, fake a few laughs, try to feel something, and then repeat.

Sleep, wake up, cry, eat, mourn, cry, shit and piss, debate about killing oneself, cry until you go to sleep, and then repeat.

Sleep, wake up but don't move, lie for hours, cry, cry some more, shit and piss, get things ready, cry until the pain stop.

Don't sleep, stare at the ceiling, lie for hours, try to eat but then don't, try to self pleasure don't see the point, let the loneness settle in, try to find something to stop all the **fucking** pain.

Eventually that day came.

Terry lie splayed out and limp in his messy mattress throne, his hair unkempt, its fringes overhang and curled; Clumps of dandruff mottled his hair.

His cloudy eyes watched over his kingdom; Lands of Hints, was that really the best he could come up with?

He set his limp hand over his five o'clock shadow, using his chipped yellow finger nails to scratch his dry chin, and rake the crumbs of old rice caught in his hair.

The blazing wind rattled and blew the empty lumps of water bottles that surrounded Terry off the cliffside.

Terry slid his hairy dry hand across his slanted eyes, wiping away the welled boogers in the crevice of his bottom eyelid, Then used his thumb to clean the other, when done Terry stroked his palm down his nose bridge, going all the way to his chin. He snorted the wet mucus dripping from his red irritated nose; The land still had that rancid stench.

His crusty laden with wax ears picked up the usual ruckus below...however...there's now nightmare inducing screams. When the gunfire and...whatever that thing howls died down the crippling silence ensues.

If only his dead god forsaken mother could see him now, she'd...well she wouldn't do anything, she's dead. Terry's dry cracked lips dimpled his cheek as he chuckled

"W-where's?" Terry clambered out of the throne, he patted his pants and pockets, then set hand over his eyes to shield them from the beams of bright white light. "Oh...yeah," he mumbled to himself, and without realizing it took a step forward, missing the ledge, he lurched, then fell face first into the dry grass below; He let out muffled groans as he lie in the loose dirt.

Terry set himself upright, he stood hunchback, staring at the poorly crafted scarecrows replicas of himself. "What are you looking at!" He ran up to shove it over, but missed his step and tripped over his little red treasure chest, he collapsed on his side, and landed in front of the damn thing. "Stop looking at me like that!" He dug his hand into the soil, then threw sand at it.

The particles of dirt came back into his eyes."S-shi-ah!" He rolled onto his knees, and used his elbows to support his upper half as he cried into his palms.

He sat up on his knees, then rubbed out the dirt, stream of tears went down his face. He sniffled. "I'm pathetic." He lowered his head, set himself upright once more, and made his way into a wooden house; The interior had notes pinned in clumps all over its walls, the sheets of paper were smudged with gibberish.

But non of that mattered, there was only one thing that did. Terry dragged his feet as he stepped up to the worn blemish table, on it was his worn out diary, he popped it open, flipping through the pages, his lax half open eyes glazed over the worn full pages, going...all the way to the end. He stopped on the final page.

Terry spoke under his breath, "Today's the day..." A unsettling smile crept up his cheek, dimpling it. His eyes widen as he chuckled.

Today's the day it all ends, it'll al be over.

After holding on for so long just to find one more day that never came, it's here. And nothing changed.

Terry pulled out his pen, he took a deep inhale, pulled off the chewed up cap, picked up the tattered diary, and leaned his back against the wall and started to write.

_Dear Diary,_

_Today's the day I join my family, I do hope they're not waiting, in fact I hope it's just a slumber that I never wake up. I don't want to see anyone anyway, not like they cared._

Terry tapped the pen against his cheek, he mulled as he stared at what little was left of the page. It has to be special, a farewell and fuck you. He nodded to himself, then scribbled some more.

 _Neither do I, to whomever is reading this, then here's a hint; I hate you...actually no, I'm sorry I'm just pissed it's not your fault, I'm sorry._  
_Thank you for reading this far, at least it means you cared enough, it's just too bad we didn't meet when it mattered, I know I'd of loved to meet someone who cared to talk to and read my stuff, but...as it turns out-_

Faint welled up tears escaped down Terry's face, he held his sharp inhales between his sore throat, his lower lip quivered.

 _No one cared until I'm gone, funny how people say they care, but when it actually matters...well y'know how this story ends. Again, if you made it this far thanks for caring._  
_This place will have everything you need, there's water by my throne, don't mind the drawing, I know it's fucking terrible. Anyway this is good-bye to this hell hole, I'm grateful that I had hobbies...however they don't stop the pain, only fr-_

Faint blotches of tears spotted the paper, water blurred his vision, his rapid moving hands trembled, and his breathy gasp left his dry mouth.

_Friends can, only family can, and only love can. But I never had any of that, maybe I'm not human. What did I do wrong?_

Terry made the text smaller, to fill the rest of the page. He clenched his teeth, then his writing hand. He could feel the pressure tense on his temples and side of his head.

 _That's why no one treated me with respect, it's simple, I'm not, it's why I never had friends nor was loved. But that wont stop me from leaving my legacy, people will know of a dead man's name. I am Hint Lord Terry Hintz._  
_To all my fans that read this, I love you dearly and hope you never have to go through this._

_This is good-bye, thank you for reading._

**. . .**

Terry set out, treading into the cave, then past the unsettling...where is he? Terry stopped between the warn rope and entrance; The scorning sun rays wrapped around Terry's back. He peeked behind the cave's small stalagmite, gagging from putrid smell of alcohol and vomit. His eyes widen from such a sight as his mouth half open. The man was riddled with tumors and full of jutting pulsating veins, the body of this man was deforming before Terry. He stared transfixed at what was going on. It was crying?

He covered his ears, wincing when the thing let a harrowing shrill! He was paralyzed with fear as cold sweat beat down his face, his breath snagged between his tense throat, Terry's trembling legs made him lose his bearing, causing him to stumble back. He kicked his feet, causing dust to cloud as he used his arms to drag himself away. "Get away!

The man's slumped oval head appeared behind the rock pillars, it started to slink past the rock, outstretching its face with its long snakelike neck, making its way towards Terry. Even with the mutation it didn't fix the man's eyes that deviated from one another.

It raised its head up in the air towards the cave ceiling, its wide mouth left open baring its misshaped teeth and letting drool drip onto the ground. The thing dragged its oversized portly body out from behind the stalagmite, breaking past the stones, it crawled towards Terry groaning.

What the fuck is going on! Terry stared wide eyed, flabbergasted at what had happen.

The abomination pulled its head back, unhinging its jaw, its unsettling eyes snapped onto Terry, locking with his.

Terry's tense body shook, the strings of drool oozing down its mouth and puddling the ground sent shivers down his spine. The monstrosity faint moans kept his nerves from responding.

It struck without a notice, hurling its head dead center towards Terry.

Sweat beat down Terry's face, he shut his eyes and winced.

The mutant's head slammed by Terry, missing him, the force from the impact sent shards of rock flying, its oversized body slued forward, causing dust to shoot out, clouding the chamber.

Terry's body jerked, he curled his fingers, gaining control from the fear. His eyes burned from the biting dust. He crawled away using his arms, his leg didn't work.

Trails of blood dripped onto the ground, smearing the dirt.

"Shit! Ah!" Terry dug his fingers into the soil, pulling himself as far as he could, the rope was close, his vision blurred..

The mutants bones snapped as it shrilled, the creature was obscure by the dust besides its faint silhouette.

Terry's fingers touched the fringes of the rope.

It scanned for movement.

It readied its jaw, cocking its head back. Bits of rock fell out of its mouth.

Terry grasped the rope, using both hands he lifted himself. He set his leg onto the rock, his other not responding.

  
Sweat beat down his face, his breathes clawed their way out of his throat, his body screamed for him to stop, but his mind kept him going.

Almost there! Terry smiled.

The mutant lunge once more, its unhinged jaw crashed into the side of the wall close to Terry, its teeth cracked the stones.

Terry's sweaty hands burned and bled when he clutched onto the prickling rope, but he didn't hesitate, even with the pain. His throat dried, and ears bled as his heart pounded against his aching chest. He had almost reached the top! All he had to do was lift himself to safety!

His hand touched the cold surface, then is responding leg; He was halfway up! Almost there!

The creature below let out another one of its harrowing howls. It tried to outstretch its head, pulling its head as far as it could. It's body pressed into the wall.

The loud clatter of its teeth made Terry froze, his vision started to get hazy and things felt heavy.

He could here the thing groan and teeth chomp, its warm breath brushed against Terry's limp lifeless leg that oozed blood.

His face redden as he tried to pull himself up, but no matter how much force he used, he couldn't carry himself to safety. He wheezed, clawing his bloody hands against the cold surface, he started to go lopsided, leaning back closer to death. He shut his wide eyes when he inhaled the pungent smell of copper.

It's not over, not yet, not now!

He could feel the mutant's tongue rap against his shoe.

His arms quivered as they strained, his face burned. Terry clenched his teeth, his body begin to drag him down, closer to that thing.

The mutant's jaw snapped shut, its teeth banged and cracked from the force, then it gnashed them as Terry heaved himself over the ledge.

He rolled himself as far away from the ledge he could, then stopped, resting on his sweaty back. He covered his ears that rung with his warm blood drenched trembling hands.

What the hell was that thing? Terry took in sharp inhales through his dry mouth. "Fuck!" He winced when he felt the sharp pang shoot up through his limp leg. If this is what the outside world is like...I should just di- Terry clutched onto the side of his head, shaking it and fighting off the bad thoughts again and again.

Terry leaned up, his posture slump, he slid his hands towards his leg, yet he was able to move it this time; He wiggled his toes, pressing against the top of his shoe. Terry bent his leg towards him, then checked where the twinge came. His pants were riddled with holes and smeared with tinges of blood. He leaned his leg to the side to check the wound, his skin was rived, but nothing too bad. Nothing more than an infected gash...

Terry's tears rushed down his red warm cheeks, he pulled out a crumbled up water bottle from his pocket, twisted the lid off; The crinkling sound masked the horrid groans of the beast below. He leaned his head back and gulped it down.

"Guess it was a good thing I left," Terry spoke below his breath, he let uncomfortable chuckles which then turned into hysterical laughter. More tears escaped his bloodshot eyes as his breaths of joy turn to painful sniffles. He mumbled, "I change my mind." He paused to take a sharp breath. "I want to go back!"

Terry curled up into a ball, rubbing down his trembling arms, trying to soothe his tormenting feelings.

Do as mother always said, 'Take deep breaths or get beat!'

Once the anxiety died down, Terry set out into the blazing ire of the dying earth, the gap he struggled with before now had a worn, torn rickety bridge stained with blood and riddled with holes. He made it past, but with some trouble. Once he got to the other side his heavy feet dragged against the loose burning soil, kicking up dust and sand as he tread through the hill top side.

Maybe a stray bullet will end his misery.

He set his sun burnt hand over his eyes to block out the white bright rays of sunlight, searing gust of wind, and specks of biting sand as he made to the other side of the island. Even with the echoing gun fire and shrieks for help from the distant hills it seemed this part was rather... unsettling quiet. He'd pass a few men standing idly at the first crossroad wearing pink mask with smiles. If that's the today's fashion fad, then the world is really ending!

Terry went on no matter what was in the way! Crazed gun men that stared at him with the intent to kill didn't scare him off! Appalling drunks who say rather rude slurs, these scum didn't get to him! As long as he had paper to write down his feelings, he could make it through the day.

Terry kept on, things seemed a bit familiar besides the clumps of bodies...and people...doing things to them. Terry shuddered, but was seized from his mind numbing thoughts when he made it to a list of...names?

Who are these people?

He stared up at the top of the stone monolith that had names painted in red. At least the ominous structure cast shade. He moved his straggly but still fabulous hair from his weary glistening masculine eyes that tracked from the top to the bottom. It read:

Big Lincoln. Terry set his sweaty hand over his pinken forehead. Probably a crazy man dressed up in a Lincoln suit and saying quotes like. 'I could never tell a lie!' As he shot them in the face.

He rolled his eye then read the next.

Sindy Gallows. What a morbid name, if that's not a nickname then his parents must of been terrible.

Terry winced when he heard the harrowing screech of one of those mutants from the distant, but instead of gun fire or sound of magic that followed after, it was a trumpet that ensued...and the beast went silent? A cold shiver went down his spine. His voice was soft, "O-okay enough of this." He made a mad dash away from where he came.

The ground went from red loose top soil to blue hard stones coated with some kind of oily paste, the ground felt like walking in sludge as if it was adhesive. But at least there was somewhat of a redeeming quality, behind the foul smell of oil there was a faint hint of ocean, it tickled his nose.

Terry set his gaze skyward, the clear blue sky made his body lax, causing him to let out a deep heavy sigh from his dry mouth, he could taste faint bits of moister in the air. Could such a thing be free of death? His eyes widen when he noticed the first set of unwelcoming pikes; They pierced red painted skulls.

The foreboding thoughts of before crept up from the back of his mind. Terry's breathing hasten as trickles of cold sweat beat down his face.

Those weren't there before, his leery eyes twitched as they settled on the apartment-like worn metal and steel camp ahead. And neither was that. He gasped, froze in place when he noticed the empty prison cells.

Maybe it was better to just sta-

"The fuck is with this flamer?" A gruff voice from behind spoke out.

Terry stood in place, he didn't dare make a move.

A slow drawl voice spoke next, "This is Rando's land, we don't need people like you."

Their heavy footfall and clatter of their armor drew near. Two sets of feet stopped, but one that was heavier than the others kept on.

Their voice was guttural, "Are you spying for one of the warlords?" Their foot steps stopped, his large bulky shadow covered Terry who trembled. "I asked you a question, answer it."

Maybe they're friendly?

Maybe they're not bad people?

Maybe it'll all just be okay!

Terry slued his head to face the men. The one that stood before him face was clothed in a black ski mask with a little red spike on the top, only their intimidating eyes could be seen through the slit, his chest was protected by a blue football armor and spaulders with red jutting spikes... it was something out of a cartoon.

The man popped his brawny knuckles, the sound if them cracking made Terry's stomach drop. "It'd be a good time to run bitch."

"Wait, hold up!" The smaller man further back with a bat and tatter golden skull helmet interjected, "What if he's one of Lardy's men?"

A slimmer man with a blue ski mask and a bow inquired, "Is that the one with pink hair?"

"No, wait...that's ugh." The small man tapped his metal bat against his helmet's chin. "Is that the veggies van damn?"

The taller man closed his eyes and set his hand on his nose bridge, pinching and rubbing his pointer finger and thumb against it. "Vega Van Dam."

Terry raised a brow. What are they talking about?

"Ugh, isn't that what I said?" The small man set the bat upside down, then leaned forward on the knob.

"No dipshit! You said Veggies you stupid chuckle fuck!"

"Heh, okay no need to be a douche."

The two irritated men bickered for a moment, then set their unwanted attention back to Terry who gave them a short benign wave by bending his sausage fingers up and down.

Come on! Think of something, think of something!

Terry trembled before them, he tried to speak, but his words were caught in his throat.

It's over, it's over it's over!

Terry spoke up, his words stammered, "I-I'm with...ugh." He hesitated for a moment. Come on, something...name, something!

"I'm...w-with...I'm with." He paused to think, the men leaned forward towards him, seized by his words.

"I'm with Big Lincoln!"

Terry clenched his teeth, he tried to recuperate and hold his stance, pretending to at least be bold in the face of such insane men. It felt like time had froze, until the three looked at each other.

The big man leaned back and crooked his head to the side. "You're with Big L?"

Terry's once more didn't speak, he held his breath, waiting for death. Please make it quick.

"Shit...there's no way."

The man in the skull intercepted, "Ugh." He paused, examining Terry. "Look at his cloths, he might be? Maybe a merchant?"

"He's got no goods, this fucker is a spy," the bulky man rebutted

The slim man in the blue ski mask spoke up, "No, no, no. They don't have spies...have you seen his men? They fuck you up as soon as you meet them." He readied his bow, setting the arrow against the string. "I think this guy is lying."

"I don't give two shits, I'm caving his face in." The hulking man stepped forward, popping his knuckles.

Every crack sent a shiver down Terry's spine, he took a few steps back with his palms open and raised by his chest.. "D-do y'know." He gulped. "What will happen if you do that?"

"Ugh, shit guys, I think he's right." The small man with the bat stepped up to the hulking one. "If he is with Big L." He paused to take a quick breath. "We're going to get fucked! Rando said we don't mess with them."

"Don't give me that shit! We're not some push over gang, we're an army!" He stormed up towards Terry, pulling him by the collar of his worn torn shirt. He readied for a strike, cocking his hand back and clinching his bruised hand.

Terry shut his quivering eyes, setting his tense hands in front of his face. His mouth went dry, and the scruff of his skin burned from his shirt tugging against it.

"Ugh, do you not know what Big L. can do? He can kill an army by himself!" The man in the skull mask set his bat against his shoulder.

The Hulking man halfway faced the small one. "That's bull shit!"

"He's number one for a reason, he murdered the starting warlords."

"So? We can take him, hell we can take all of them!"

"Hmm, ugh. We could, but Rando doesn't want that." The small man faced the camp. "If Rando sees what we're doing, we're out of the group, let him go."

"He's a spy, he'll tell them we're push overs!"

"Just, ugh, let him go so we don't get kicked out. We got things too good right now."

Terry was tossed forward, he fumbled onto his butt, making a light thud as he landed, he sat dumfound and out of breathe. I must be the luckiest man alive! He looked up to watch the men walk pass him as if he didn't exist, the faltering of their heavy steps made him lax. Terry swiped his trembling hand across his sweaty forehead, then let out a heavy purgative sigh. He clasped his cracked lips, musing on his thoughts.

Continue onward...and hope I can catch a ride.

Continue onward and roam aimlessly...to find a purpose?

Continue onward and just hope that there's a place for me that'd keep me safe and secure.

Or just give up and drown. That's painless right?

Terry's gaze settled on the pikes with skulls on them. It'd be better than that. Terry leaned back, using his palms to keep himself supported, he halfway turned, facing the side of his head to peek at the prison. If they didn't kill him, maybe they'd let him pass? Do they even have boats? Terry scratched his forehead. What the hell am I thinking, that raft is gone. Terry mouthed the words "Fuck."

Clambering up, Terry kept his gaze on the distant ocean; He could hear the thrashing waves crash into the rock walls. He tried to dust off the sticky oil which soaked into his shirt, Terry sulked as he was in vain. "Fuck it," Terry said, moping and moving on towards...that camp. Maybe it's not all that bad? He was able to set foot into the crowd without notice, no one seemed to care he was here, but was that a good thing? Each heavy foot fall from the soldiers? Made Terry wilt and scrunch up, their idle chatter made his stomach churn, and when the men set their cold stare on him he felt like dying.

But the one thing that caught his attention was the empty prison cells, no blood or anything, just a cramp room with cloth. Whatever they'd planned wasn't his problem, not like I could do anything about it. After treading for twenty minutes, his attention was captured by the buffeting sounds of waves which struck against the rocks. His eyes widen and posture rose when he noticed five worn, rusted, and mottled with peeled paint runabout boats ahead, men were loading and unloading crates of guns, food, and...porn magazines?

Prison..cells...porn magazines was this place...Terry shuddered at the thought. Again, it's not my problem. He made haste, dashing to the docks, but the closer he got the more the crippling thoughts came.

How am I going to get on?

Terry's dash started to become a light jog.

Why would they allow someone as useless as me on?

His feet started to feel heavy, hampered by his tense, sore, and drenched in sweat legs. Even with the relaxing breeze of the seaside it wasn't enough to calm his on edged nerves. Terry stopped at the top of the plywood dock, he stared down at the boats below, listening to the crew member's muffled chatter, his eyes set on the men moving crates from one of the runabout.

Terry tried to get the attention of the unloaders, they walked by, carrying a heavy wooden crate. Of course, who'd pay attention to me? He stood there fumbling his fingers, watching them move the boxes off the boat. Could I stowaway? He tapped his finger against his rugged chin, tilting his head down by his chest with a cocky grin. They wouldn't even know I'm here, I'll do it like I did at school. Terry's eyes went round when was snapped out of his thoughts from a rather loud and enthusiastic voice.

"Hey fella! are you my new recruit?"

Terry swiveled to face where the voice came, he stared at a tawny brown bare chested portly man with a rather black stylish porno mustache. "W-who are you?" The unsettling smell of lotion made him crinkle his nose.

"Oh? That's Lardy for ya, he never tells you about us. Well my name is Tardy, I'm a Hernandez. Pretty big deal around these blocks." Lardy chuckled. "So, like what do you do?"

Terry quirked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Look here fella, you got a job to defend the cargo, I'm sure you know how bad the world is." He paused to take a breathe. "I gotta know what you're good at, so thing don't go to shit." Tardy paused to take a quick breath once more. "This one time we had a prankster who thought it'd be funny to say that I'm as big as a boat." he set his greasy hand on his oily chest. "Me a boat? How could someone say that? I'm not a boat, if I ever find that person I'm going to kill them." He removed his hand off his chest, the grease made a subtle peeling sound, then he extended it towards Terry who cringed at the sweaty palm before him. "Look it's whatever, forget what I said. Lardy knows what he's doing." He narrowed his sweat stain eyelids. "Are you going to shake my hand?"

Terry hesitated to extend his arm, he set it an inch away from Tardy's, the salty smell of the sea was diluted by Fardy's strong tangy odor.

The world came to a stop.

The man's hand loomed in front of Terry.

There was no escape.

There was no way out of this.

There was only one option.

The stench was strong enough for him to taste it.

Terry gulped, his hand trembled. It came closer to the man's hand, he could feel the heat radiate from Lardy's sweaty palm.

Creeping up, the distant closing in, the time trickling by. It was all tumbling down.

The edge of Terry's fingers could feel the slimy texture of Tardy's swelled palm. It clasped around Terry's shaking hand, making a faint farting sound as air passed through the crevices of their hands. Oddly enough, it wasn't so bad. When Terry was spared from the greasy grip, he wiped the thick smelly sweat from his palm onto the side of his stained jersey.

"Okay fella, you're on, you better not try to do anything wise." Tardy pointed his sweaty hand at Terry, tilting his head forward and narrowing his squinty eyes. "Capeesh?"

Terry set his non sticky hand on the back of his head, he leaned it to the side, scratching the nape. He stammered, "Y-yeah!"

A toothy grin dimpled Tardy's cheek, causing Terry to gulp. "Ah! Don't worry." He pointed both his hands at Terry who's legs trembled. "I'm just messing with you." He let out a heavy laugh, slapping his legs and slumping over, he went on until he became breathless then took in a sharp breathy gasp. His voice was croaky.

"Okay pal, get on the boat." His friendly expression soured, he flatten his lips then furrowed his brows. He flail his meaty arms shooing Terry away. "Go do your damn job!"

Terry zipped past the hulking men carrying cargo, he bowed his chest back and slipped by a men dressed in the blue and red uniforms laden with rifle bullets on his leather bandoliers crossed in a X shape lapping across his barreled chest.

If you ripped and loaded like that how are you not in charge?

He set himself up right, then twisted his body halfway to face the looming foreboding structure of the cesspit. He set his hands over his eyes to block out the rays of ire of the sun, captivated at a single billowed fluffy cloud, it brought a faint half smile on Terry's cheek.

Even in the tormenting damnable world there was still beauty. He dipped his head down, then for a brief moment mused on the lovely couple that he saw a long time ago. Regardless of how bad things can get, there's still always love. Terry clutched his sweaty fist. Maybe there's something out there for him, he just has to keep going.

Like sis always said, "'Life is like a cigarette, smoke it to the butt.'"

Terry set out, making his way down the dock towards the boat, he set his hands onto the side of the rusty railing, clambering over with an extended foot, he tipped over and fell right on his face, leaving his legs up and dangling, he set his palms on the rotten wet wooden floor and pushed himself upright, staring up into the clear skies with his pinken face and smile. It's going to be different! I'll bring a new day and a new chance, maybe I'll fine someone out there that's made for me...or just another dance with death. Terry shook his head. Nope, not this time, there's a world for me to find!

 

 


	3. Going on living!

Hell, it's all nothing more than a nightmare. Every time a peninsula came into view it was riddled with corpses in bizarre poses. Fucking, sucking, giving the finger, and even had their heads chopped off and...giving head. Terry leaned against the plastic railing of the rocking boat, he used his hand that rested on it to remove the sweat that blotched his forehead, if only there was something for my stomach. Terry felt bile build up in his queasy guts.

Even from where the boat drifted the rotting flesh could be smelled from here. His heavy sigh was masked by the thrums and coughs of the boat's engine.

But what was even more strange was that it felt cooler with where he was, even when not in the shade the rays of the livid sun didn't burn. His lax eyes gazed on the subtle waves below that buffeted against the worn boat's keel.

He halfway faced the main deck to watch the two other guards.

Terry set his gaze on a white man who wore a mustard yellow jaguar spotted trunks, his black scraggly beard extended out of his red sweaty leather wrestling mask.

Sweetie, you can't pull that off, you look awful. Terry rolled his eyes, then checked the other man, who was bit of a hunk.

A black man with well toned beefy arms.

Terry set his palm over his faint blushed cheeks, he rested his rump against the rail of the boat and continued to study the man dressed in a blood red loose tank top.

Terry's eyes trailed the center contours of the muscle body.

He looped and intertwined a strand of his messy hair with his finger. He blinked then slumped his back, using his elbows to carry himself against the hard warm torn plastic of the railing. His are beautiful. Terry let out a pleasant sigh. I'd love the be snuggled by such a stro—what is he doing!

The hunky men quickly turned his head side to side, checking to see if anyone was watching, his pointer finger loomed an inch away from his nose.

Don't do it, don't do it please!

The hunky man set the tip into the nostril, he seemed to shove it in...then he started to flick his finger about as he picked it.

Terry's posture drooped as he cringed at such a sight.

How can someone as handsome as that do such a thing?

How can someone as ravishing as him stand there and do that in front of everyone!

How can _someone_ be so close to perfection, yet be so gross!

Oh **Lordy** no!

The hunky man set his wet finger that had a booger which seeped like glue from his oozing nose right in front of his clasped lips.

Terry spoke below his breath, "You're shitting me." Unable to look away, he watched in horror as the not so hunky man did what no one should ever do.

He smeared it on his good looking tank top, leaving a wet strand along his shirt.

How **barbaric**!

That's a Gabriella's style tee! Those are expensive. I swear this _motherfucker_ is dumb! Terry set his tense palm over his clenched teeth, then faced away to grumble.

The world is really coming to an end, oh, what a world!

Terry wallowed in pity as time lapsed once more, no matter what the scenery never changed, or the people either, nor did the perpetual damn scorching sun rest! And...neither could he, even when curled up and under the rusted washboard. Terry writhe while trying to find the perfect spot to sleep, the thrum of the engine made Terry set his tense palms over his ears.

His bloodshot weary eyes settled on the other men who slept with ease. How! Why am I so weak? Terry plopped on his back with his arms over his head and splayed out. I forgot how bad the trip was!

Regardless of the countless days the voyage never seemed to end, or perhaps not a single day had passed? Doesn't matter, it's hell, and nothing more. Until. "about damn time!" Terry cheered, under the washboard. Land was in the distant dead ahead! A dark blue visage was wavy from the heat rays. Land fucking ho!

The boat came to a sudden stall, its engine in the back kicked, then it's engine was stifled as it let out plumage of smoke that choked the air around. Terry waved his hands in front of his face, trying to brush away the black cloud that stifled his breath. He coughed as the dust agitated his sore dry throat. Of course life find a way to get shittier.

Terry's narrowed his eyes and brows, he fixated on the land. He could swim there, if it's one thing he's good at it's swimming!

Terry dashed forward, his heavy footfall rapped against the wood flooring. The head of the boat was in front of him, he extend his hands to vault over the railing.

His hand pressed against it, he lifted himself into the air, legs bent by his chest.

A miss calculation! Terry's foot had caught on the railing, causing him to go from a ball shape to splaying and flailing.

The water drew near, his face lead the way.

Contact!

Terry's body was engulfed into the ocean; A sudden splash ensued.

He kept his eyes clenched, the cool water made thing feel at peace. Terry toothily smiled, letting bits of air bubbles escape the cracks of his mouth. His hair flowed in the blue ocean, Terry tasted a hint of salt water which soothe his mouth. He lax as he used his arms to raise himself upwards.

Terry's head broke through the waves, gasping for air and letting it fill his aching lungs. He set his attention to the boat consumed in smoke. The coughs of the guards and Tardy were faint, the beating waves masked it all, and started to push Terry landward.

Oh shit!

He kicked, flailed, and spat out water as he his destination came crawling near, his wet clothing laden him causing him to drag under the sudden lashing waves.

"F-fu-ah!" Half of Terry's head poked out for a brief second, he tried to gasp, but was submerged once more, choking on the rushing salt water that intruded. The ocean yelled into his ears each time he went under. He came up, coughing.

His muscles tense, and his shaking arms struggled to keep his head over water, until eventually giving out while his thrashing legs were the last life line. Terry's peripheral vision started to blacken, everything was becoming heavy.

This isn't so bad. A crooked weak trembling smile crept up.

People are supposed to die, it's just my time. Terry's body idled, engulfed by blue. Besides I was dumb enough to try. His lungs started to crumble.

It's just that...it's my life...I went through...s...o...mu...ch. Faint pocket of air bubbles seeped from his half open mouth.

And...

Nothing.

**. . .**

Rays from the dim scarlet setting sun spanned across the brown dusk marred wasteland. The sky still bare, but no longer lapis nor bright; It was now a united purple blended with a hint of dark blue.

Terry's damp lifeless hand twitched against the scorching mauve sand, a few subtle jerks of the fingers a moment later he clutched his hand and balled it up into a fist, making grooves and picking up a clump. Am I alive? He could feel the grainy rugged texture glued to his smothered sweaty face.

He immediately pulled his head out from the sand, gasping for air; Bits of clumped up grain was stuck to his peach cheeks, it started to peel off. His voice was frail, "W-where." He coughed up salt water. "Am I?" He lifted himself off the loose ground, setting his gaze onto the rugged rocky rolling hills. "This...is the third crossroad?" He scanned the surrounding, letting out a heavy sigh. He tensed up and jolted away from the sounds of thrashing waves against the beach.

A faint unsettling chuckles escaped his quivering lips. "It's nothing," he said, taking sharp breathes with bits of unsettling laughter, and rubbing his cold goosebump shaking arms. "Thought I'd never see night again."

Or be alive.

Or make it this far.

Or even see the point in all of this.

Not this time. Terry set his shaking cold palm on his face and slid it down to remove the clumps of sand, he strolled his way onward with teetering steps and heavy breaths.

I can wait until day and burn to death or relax in the night and run off a cliff. He narrowed his eyes to focus on the poorly illuminated rock ground, his pupils going round. He fumbled as he progressed.

Terry made it onto the mountain's base! He set foot at the bottom of the purple stone butte with limp phallic shaped stalagmites scattered about. I guess...I'll just aimlessly roam now? A leery grin wrinkled his cheek.

Maybe I'll be able to find some place to call home.

His posture drooped and he tilted his head to the side with slanted eyes. Terry set his lax hand on his elbow and let out a deep sigh. "There's no such thing." Terry dragged his heavy feet as he went on, he came to a rope that was anchor to a rock above, he clutched it, letting the bits of strands that jutted out prick his hand, each time he lifted himself up he could feel his palms burn. Why is rope used so damn much!

By the time he made it to the top, the sun began to rise from the distant horizon, piercing the darkness with it scorching rays and bleeding on the land turning its hue to orange. Of course, of fucking course! He set his hands on the edge, kicked his feet against the rock wall, and hefted himself up.

Terry heavy breaths burned his aching sore lungs and agitated his dry mouth. The air tasted and smelled of the hint of salt from the ocean breeze mixed with the putrid decaying dead.

Drowning sounds more appeasing than living. What is there even to live for?

His hand slipped into his right pocket, the familiar texture of plastic brought a faint smile. There's always one thing, he pulled out his trusty pen still encapsulated by its cover. But nothing to write on, he set his gaze on a wooden jutting pole ahead of him. It had three red cloth straps, each bit buffeted from the cooling breeze.

Terry stepped across a wooden worn bridge, made it to the pole, and set his hands on the cloth, messing with the entanglement. He clenched his teeth and griped below his laden breaths. Why isn't anything easy! The rushing wind howled in his ear and sent loose sand into his eye.

I'm sick of this! He clamped his eyes shut, yanking on one of the cloths and tearing it off. "Ha—Ah!" Terry stumbled backwards, waving his hands encircles as he tripped onto his back, crashing into the jagged rocks. "Got I-" The strand of cloth slipped out of his open palm and was seized by the blazing gust of wind.

His heart crumbled between his ribs.

His arms reached out through the air, trying to clutch the escaping hope.

His mouth went agape as his eyes went round. The cloth was now long gone and so was his will to live. He spoke under his breath, "I hate my life."

He recuperated from where he lie, dusting himself off. He huffed, setting his eyes on the horizon; Bits of distant hillside echoed with the usual gun fire and blood curdling yells. Nothing new as usual.

Terry stepped forward, progressing further into the wasteland, he'd come across a pile of corpses to the side of the mountain pass, each one was missing their head. he set his hand on his queasy stomach, making his way to them, he rummaged through their pockets, some had goods: Jerky, that's as dry as sand: Soda, the more preferable wording is warm piss: water, thank god: and...no way it couldn't be. Paper! Now this is worth living for!

I'm truly the **most** luckiest unluckiest man around. Terry crudely smiled

He set each item in his loose dirty pant pockets besides the worn out plastic bottle of water, he chugged every ounce of the warm liquid, wiping his mouth with his sweaty blood stain hand.

Now I'm in business. He stridden with a hop in each step, humming to the light sound of his footfalls pressing against the dirt. He'd pass more...land, But now before him! Some hills, next was a cave, and Now! more fucking rope.

 _Oh-boy_! This is better than death!

Terry posture slumped as he carried on through the vapid cesspit of a dead world. And for the love of god will the sun rest! Tension build up on the side of his head, he rubbed them with his sunburnt hand, trying to massage his ill willed mind.

 _Oh-boy_! This isn't getting old at all!

Terry stepped into a damn insulated cave, he clamped his arms in a fist, furrowed his brows, and clasped his lips together. Each heavy tramp reverberated off of the poorly lit walls. But when the exit came, the rays of hell reached in.

Sounds of roaring crowds cheering and metal being pounded were followed by men grunting and yelling. Terry slinked by the exist, this of course had to of been some kind of battle going on. Someone from the outside yelled out.

"Kick'em in the groin!"

Then another.

"Don't be a pussy, you tit fuck!"

This...was a weird battle. Terry set his leery hand onto the wooden frame, he poked his head halfway out, his eyes glazed over the outside. He raised a brow as his dry lips parted. "What?"

The outside had two rectangular adobe structures, above it had a worn out arching foam banner with bold red letters which read. 'EWC.'

Men rested atop of the building, they all yelled at a arena occupied by two combatants dressed in mask and spandex shorts. The ring was made with wooden crates for a base, which had worn out poles around it that were linked together with manila rope.

Terry blinked for a moment. Perhaps the world still had hope, because if there's one thing that will never die, it's wrestling. He'd stepped out from the shrouds of the cave and made his way into the plains, he approached the side and leaned his shoulder against the first structure a few steps away from its entrance.

The way the men fumbled with their feet was that of a sin, each poor gesture and wrong move was...quite sad. The heavens blessed the world of such sportsmanship but the devil taint it with ill craftsmanship. And worst of all that can't be forgiven is how obvious it was to see the two talking!

The world is over, the heavens are rived, and hell has been set free!

Terry placed his palms over his face, dragging them down, letting out a frustrated groan as his hands slide off of his sweaty face. They need...could it be?

 **Hints**?

Has the world lost its way? He stared down the incompetent wrestlers, his hairy brows raised and weary eyes gleamed; This is his calling! It's always is the hintster's way.

Like Dad always said, " 'If you got a hint that a bitch is crazy, you leave that stanky ass hoe!' "

Terry frown, lightly shaking his head side to side. That wasn't it, but its close enough! He intertwined his lax fingers, spun them around, and extended them out as they made a popping sound.

This world wont be lost for long, it'll know who he is! Since all it needs is just a little hint.

Terry set forth, jotting down what the world needed to know. He wrote how you should be kind to one another; That's something a lot of people forget! How friendship is helpful and the world is a lonely place, make sure to have money that way you can buy them! Sex isn't everything, but masturbation is!

Nothing stopped him, blood crazed bandits found nothing of use on him and let him be, strange people in caves that'd grope him and licked him did not daunt his passion! Snakes, well fuck those bastards, besides the cute ones here and there.

He made sure to post them around and stick them where many could see. If not, their lost. Oh! And can't forget to sign them. Fans have to know who does such fabulous work!

He scoured the ignorance of the dead world with his new found epiphany of such killer knowledge, mankind will write his wondrous name is the hall of wisdom. He'll be the greatest philosopher of all time just like Pluto the Dog.

And thus came the last hint for now. Terry stood atop of a cliffside with a dead tree, he'd carried a boulder with a balloon tied to the edge, he plopped it down. Some people are so dumb they'll just walk off! But, before he could wipe the sweat from his pinken face and congratulate himself, a low growl came behind him with patters of paw pads which sent shivers down his spine.

A mange feral Jack Russell Terrier approached him with its yellow and cavity ridden teeth bared, the wild beast snarled and spat as it set foot closer to Terry who was laden with cold sweat and goosebumps. Could this be the end!

One move made the dog jerk in the same direction as he, its frothy drool oozed down it's furrowed maw.

Terry made a dash for the wilted oak tree, his hands touched the burning wood, its hard bark scrapped against his sweaty hands, his feet slid as they tore the flesh off of the dead plant. But the worse of it all! He pulled his...

Groin.

The foul odor of the canine reeked of piss and shit, but worse was its snarls and failed attempts of bites. The canine hopped using its hind legs with what little energy it had to try and get at him.

Is this really it? This is the end, to die to this! Terry let out and unsettling chuckle while he hugged the tree. Well the world knows of my hints, I guess that's good enough. He lie there waiting for his impending doom, but alas in the heat distorted distance came a burly man dressed in a brown leather poncho, he kept his oval shiny head down and eyes slanted and shrouded by the shade as he approached.

"Hey!" Terry cupped his hands and shouted, "You there!" He now stood atop the limp tree, catching the man's attention. "This wild beast won't leave me alone."

He abruptly changed his tone, making himself sound civilized. "I'd slay this beast myself." He set his sweaty palm on his bruised chest and raised his sunburn nose in the air. "But I pulled my groin climbing this tree." Terry stared down at the angry man, with a pompous look on his face. "So give me a hand will ya?"

And so the angry man did, beating the wild beast into a bloody pulp.

Terry clambered off the tree, sliding himself against the hard bark, but lost his baring, and stumbled onto his ass, he let out a grunt as he landed back to earth. He abruptly recuperated from such embarrassment and stepped forward towards his hero.

"You're pretty tough for..." The man's unsettling stare made him pause. "A whacked out midlife crisis looking bold man." Cold sweat beat down Terry's face. That came out all too wrong, compliment him! "You seem like you can handle a lot of pain." An unsettling toothy faux smile stretch across his face as he went on.

"Like, maybe you could handle some kind of pain related difficulty setting, huh?" Terry's face scrunched up. Why did I say that? Now I look like a dork, fuck it, it's too late. "Am I correct?"

The angry ammonia smelling man said yes.

"Huh...that sucks." He shook his head. Change topics! "Anyway." He faced half his chest away, and his left leg started to shoot out pang from his ankle to his upper thigh, causing him to go lopsided. Fuck! C'mon look strong. "I would've helped." Terry shut his eyes and clamped his teeth together, letting out a masked grunt. "But like I said, I hurt my H-string." Terry faked another unsettling pain smile.

Terry extended a lax hand out towards the angry bald man. "I'm Terry Hintz." He lightly waved it in front of the unresponsive stoic man. "People call me the Lord of the Tutorial." I don't even know what I'm doing anymore.

He took a sharp breath as he return his hand back to his side. Maybe I could be friends with him? Win him over with your charm. "I've been traveling the lands, leaving my hints for all to see." He watched the angry old man still stare unfazed by his worldly charisma. "I'm a pretty big deal. Got lots of fans." Once more he tried to smile, but this time it faltered every time the man stood their with his disturbed blank stare. Why isn't he in awe?

The angry old man faced away and went on with his business, but before he could leave someone as great as Terry, he was stopped by a plead.

"Wait!" When Terry had caught the attention of the man, both stared in awkward silent, neither budging. "You seem pretty lonely." He set his gaze towards the ground, unable to stare the odd man in the eyes anymore. "Since I'm a nice guy." He set his sweaty trembling hands on his chest. "I'll keep you company."

The man kept silent, neither budging nor saying a word. How friendly.

"Cool! It's settled!" Terry rushed to the man's side, his cheeks were dimpled by his charming smile. Even if the angry man was a sight for sore eyes and smelled of...alcohol, he was at least strong and did help.

Terry followed behind with his hand on his chin, he kept his head low, musing on his thoughts. I guess go with the flow and if anything bad happens, do what I do best. His posture slump and he shut his dry eyes, letting out a heavy sigh from his sore throat. Run away.

The sickening smell of fresh iron snapped him out of his thoughts, without notice he'd walk in puddles of blood. Terry stopped a few feet away from a small adobe house, an old sickly looking fellow rested against it bleeding and presumably dead.

The bald old man kneeled, speaking below his breath as the life of the person he talked to faded. He spoke up, his voice gruff, "Sorry guy." He faced Terry with his usual stoic expression. "There's something I gotta go do." He went on.

"Alone."

"What happen?" Terry set his gaze on the dead guy, then back to the old man.

"I can't really tell you." The man's forehead started to have a subtle grooves as his brows slowly met each other.

You can't give up on this guy, he actually help! "Come on bro, this looks serious." Terry took a step back when the man clenched his tense fist, causing his knuckles to pop.

The man hesitated for a moment, his stoic expression had a crack, causing his lip to frown and his eye to welled up, but both were gone in an instant. "Someone close to me is missing." He paused to catch his breath. "I need to find that person." His tense fist eased up. "That's all I can say."

Quick give him moral support!

"Oh shoot...That's sad dude." Terry stood in silence, watching as his words did nothing. I'm fucking up already, c'mon you can fix this! He crossed his arms and once more talked with a pompous tone, "I figure you'll need someone to protect you."

"I don't."

I'm sure that's his way of pleading for help. Terry shrugged as he stepped towards the bald man. "I'll tag along I guess." He leaned his head back, having his nose pointed up in the air, and set his hands in his pockets."Considering I'm a very strong warrior." There, now he'll know of my prowess.

The bald man didn't say a thing, he simply faced his back towards Terry and walked away. Hooked line and sinker. Terry pursued a few steps behind, his wide smile dimpled his cheeks, letting his eyes lax. My first friend.

He climbed down an elongated rope, with the bald man leading the way. They made it to the lower levels of the mountainside. Both scaling down the outcropped limestone. Eventually coming to two sets of worn and torn bridges connected to a base of the cliff, across it on the end was one mean son of a bitch.

A sepia reddish brown old man with canary colour mohawk wearing red semi-rimless sunglasses. He extended his drenched in fresh crimson spear towards the two.

Terry froze behind the bald man; They both stood on the rock base adjacent to the first bridge, starring at the foe obstructing their journey.

The hostile man spoke out, "Outta my way!" He leaned forward, setting his left leg back, and anchoring it to the ground, causing the loose dirt to clump up against his black worn boot. "I want that bitch all to myself."

Terry set his gaze onto the bald man. This person must be important. His mouth was half opened and a brow raised. His fingers quivered and his gut dropped,

He set his sweaty hand over his mouth, scratching his cheek with his pointer finger. But! Before he could recuperate from his muse, the hostile foe rushed at them, thrusting his spear first.

An abrupt grasp snapped Terry out of his pensive thoughts, the bald man clutched Terry's worn shirt, his back was shoved into the rock wall by the bald man. Their foe dashed past them, stumbling as he stopped before the edge; Bits of rocks from the cliffside fell off into the barren valley bellow.

It's your time to shine! Terry broke out of the bald man's grasp, he rushed forward, his feet pressing into the ground, Terry closed in now few steps away from the foe. I go-

His eyes widen and mouth shot open, his thigh cramped while his feet came to a stop.

He was now flying through the air towards the enemy. There was no stopping, but at least his hair looks good while it flowed.

He slammed his elbow into the foes back, they didn't flinch nor budge. The side of Terry's face met the ground as the rest of his body followed.

It's all over.

The bald man came to his aid before their foe had a chance to retaliate. When the enemy pivoted, his face was met with a one two punch, causing his glasses to crack and shatter, the foe yelled out fuck! The bald man's last strike was to the man's lower esophagus, causing the enemy to lean back; The one thing that kept him there was his foot which leaned back towards the cliff.

One last punch straight to the foe's nose caused him to plummet over the cliffside, in which his dying voice shouted.

"This ol' salmon is swimmin'." Their body crashed into the jagged rock side, causing their bones to break and snap. "Down stream tonight." Until a thud ensued, leaving silence.

"It was a good thing you had the hinster by your side." Terry winked with a wide half smile. "I am the lord of hints!"

The bald man stayed silent and went through the solutional cave entrance, Terry followed behind, keeping him company and attempting to cause lively chatter. Both were cautious as they trekked through the dim ominous room which only light source was the blazing rays of the sun.

Their heavy footfalls on the erratic rock flooring reverberated off of the limestone walls.

Regardless of whoever tried to halt the two would come to a brutal end. This person he wants has be important if there's so many people after him.

They both exited the cave, Terry set his sweaty palm over his eyebrows to block out the rays of light, he blinked as his eyes readjusted, yet, the bald men kept going, nothing stopping him. Even if the land smelled of foul fresh iron, and the ground soaked in blood and organs. The bald man wasn't fazed by such grotesque imagery.

Terry and the bald man made it down the mountain base into the ravage gulch infested with the corpses of variation of men. They progressed into a flat valley, which the distant was impossible to see from the distorting heat waves. Neither of them stop, but something in the far off horizon was making a bee line in their direction, its rumbling shrieking engine could be heard; Before they knew it they both struck by a worn out cola truck! The resounding impact echoed throughout the badlands.

The impact knocked Terry off his feet, he came crashing into the ground that scrapped against his bare arms, he could taste blood building up in his mouth. Maybe after all death isn't so bad. He lie where he collapsed, motionless besides the subtle movement of his chest rising and falling. He could hear the rumble of the truck engine come to a halt. Terry eyes were persistently open then shut, until a few minutes later he didn't have the energy to stay conscious.

The world spun, going black.

Terry's body ached, his head throbbed, and his limbs wouldn't respond. He could feel the trickles of sweat drip down to the side, and a burning tense pressure trickle from his inner nose, his heavy eyelids refused to budge. Bits of tears built up around his burning eyes, yet, the moister didn't leave. He tried to let out a moan, but it was snagged in his dry throat. It all went from a sharp pain one second to being numb the next.

Terry was able to hear muffled steps, three sets of heavy boots could be heard, each thud against the searing sand sent goose pimples down his tense spine.

In the distant a faint masculine grating voice could be heard, "Time is a great teacher." Light treads of hooves clapped against the loose soil, the closer it came the louder the voice became, "Sadly it kills all its pupils." The heavy galloping came to a stop.

"Howdy mother fucker."

Terry tried to move his fingers, but the more he struggled, the worse the twinge pang in his chest got. He halfway open his mouth to let the searing air fill his crumbling lungs and letting crimson seep from his mouth.

The grating voice went on, "Our paths hath crossed yet again."

What a pretentious douche. Terry's feeble smile dimpled his cheeks, a faint quick chuckle escape his mouth, but was followed by pained breathy groans and spat up blood.

Once more the grating voice continued, "Do you remember our time spent as wee lads?" He paused, "I do fondly."

This guy never shuts up.

"My heart just tumbles with joy thinking about it." He let out a wheezy chuckle. "Like your head in a dryer." He snorted, taking a quick breathe. "Normally you'd be dead and stripped of your wares by now." He dramatically paused. "But," his tone soften up, "I like you Brad. Let's have some fun...I shall give you a choice."

His name is Brad...? Weird.

"Your yellow shirted friend's life."

Oh... _fuck_ beans. Beads of sweat trickled down's Terry's pink forehead, he tried to move his limbs, yet was in vain.

"Or." He paused again, letting a few seconds slip by. "All of your belongings!" There was a heavy sound of a snorting deer, and hooves tramping against the hard rock ground. "Choose wisely. What will you give up?"

The crippling apprehension was paralytic which kept Terry snared, each twitch of his fingers and toes sent an abrupt sharp jolt down his spine.

It's all over. who'd choose me...? I'm worthless.

Nothing more than a liar, I can't do anything right. I couldn't even save myself from a dog.

The ensnaring silence choked the moment, there was only the distant sound of men yelling and gun fire.

I'm fucking trash, and I'm going to forgotten just like it.

This is what I get, this is what I am, this is how it'll end.

I''ll die never having friends...or...even knowing what it feels to be loved.

The bald man's spoke.

"Take my belongings."

W-what?

Terry eyes trickled with tears, his lower lip quivered, and his heart stopped.

The grating voice became dull, "Hmm... how boring." He let out a heavy sigh. "Alrighty boys, strip'em quickly." The man heaved the rein, causing the deer to rear up. "I hear a tale that a female is on the loose!"

There's still hope after all...

The hooves clapped against stones. "My loins ache for some excitement." He laughed. "Off we go!" The trotting sound of the deer faltered into the distant while three sets of feet ambled across the sand.

One passed Terry, then within a few seconds he heard the bald man being assaulted; Three voices mocked...Brad as they beat him, when the sound of the thrashing stopped, their steps drew near to him. One man simply checked his pockets, said a few words below his breath, and then left them be.

The truck's engine stammered as it started up, it's engine roared and it's exhaust had backfire which popped. Shrilling sound of tires peeling against the cracked topsoil ensued before petering out in the distant.

How...can someone actually care about me?

His clasped lips pressed down against his blistering cheeks, his lower lip still trembling, he wiped away the tears from his eyes next was the blood. Don't act too surprised, c'mon I got this!

He heard Brad's poncho ruffle in the wind, his heavy footfall came close to Terry, then stopped.

Terry lifted his chest half up, he fumbled as he set his tired arms behind him and by his rump to carry his back, they quaked as he sat there. "Ugh." He leaned his head to the side, staring up towards Brad. His voice was frail, "My head." He blinked, recuperating from the twinge build up in his front lobe. "Whoa!" His dry eyes widen when he noticed the fresh scare across Brad's face. "You look like hell!" He set his arm against his aching back, wincing from the pain. "Are you okay dude? What happen?"

Brad stared down at Terry, keeping his stoic stare. "Ugh." He paused for a moment. "We got hit by a truck." He popped his fist, then his neck. "It was some old friends...everything okay now."

Terry toothily smiled, he shook his throbbing head. "Damn...first my hamstring, now this." A faint chuckle escaped his dry mouth. "You're a bad omen!"

That's not what I meant to say.

Brad stared off into the distant behind Terry. "Yeah...I guess so."

Not very good with conversation are you? Terry wiped away the bulbs of sweat from his forehead with his cloth arm band. "Well." He waved a lax hand through the air in front of him. "It's all good man." His eyebrows raised. "I don't mind"

  
Am I making an actual friend? This...feels great! He spoke without hesitation, "I like hanging out with you."

Terry extend out a welcoming hand shake, his bruised fingers struggled to straighten.

Is this the day I finally live?

Brad's stoic stare sent chills down Terry's spine, but Brad half-heartedly smiled, then caved in and reached out, clutching his sweaty hand against Terry's.

I...actually...Terry tilted his head to the side to hide his outstretched smile with his hair. His heart pounded and his body felt light. He stepped behind Brad and followed him onward. Finally have had...someone I can call a...

Friend.


End file.
